


Through the Window

by KarieChaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Car Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:49:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarieChaos/pseuds/KarieChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has needs and can't wait until the next motel. Can he make Sam stop sulking and get what he wants?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Window

Through the Window  
By: Karie Chaos

Disclaimer:  
I don't own any of it. I can only borrow the ideas and write fun smutty things for it. Sam/Dean slash, so if that's not your thing, please just move along. If it is, read on my friend!

 

~*~

 

The sun was blazing in the wind-shield, but Dean had on his sunglasses, so he was okay. He also had the visor down to cut out the worst of the glare. Sam was squinting a little out the window since Dean had snapped his sunglasses in half the other day and pitched them out the window because they made his brother look like a huge douche. He was not riding around with someone who looked like that all day. Aviators, for fucks sake. Sam had been sulking over it since and Dean was getting annoyed with it. If Sam was sulking, he wasn't giving it up, and Dean had needs, dammit. He wasn't a nympho or anything (at least he didn't think so) but still. He was a healthy adult male, sex was important. He didn't understand how Sam could take it not getting some at least once a day

He shifted uncomfortably. Fuck. Now he was getting hard, and Sam was in full on bitch-mode, which meant he was stuck with no one to relieve himself with. Sometimes his hand just wasn't enough. Not even if he used his left.

He squirmed again, his boot sliding off the gas briefly before he put it back on and gave it a tap. Sam shifted and looked over at him, a curious furrow coming between his brows before he obviously remembered that he was still mad and pursed his lips. Fuck. That was not helping, because now Dean was getting ideas. None of which would make Sam less bitchy. He gave him a look and Sam made a face at him, before jerking his face back to look out the window. Dean sighed out loud and then jerked his sunglasses off, shoving them into Sam's chest.

“Here! Geezus, get the stick out man. Wear mine, I'll buy you a new pair at the next town we stop in! Just stop being such a bitch!”

Sam fumbled the glasses and then frowned at him, fingers getting prints all over the lenses which made Dean's fingers twitch to take them back and clean them up again. He didn't own much nice stuff, but damn, he took care of the things he did have, and those had been expensive! But he didn't, he just squinted a little into the sun and kept driving, still hard and uncomfortable. Sam rubbed the smears off and then shoved the glasses on with a sound of relief. His retinas were probably fried, so Dean didn't blame him, but that noise man!

Fuck.

They drove on for another couple of miles before Sam was relaxed and had shifted into his normal almost-sprawl. He was too tall for real comfort in the Impala, but he made the best of it. He was half leaning into Dean's shoulder, his arm stretched across the back of the seat, his fingers resting lightly on his brother's far shoulder, enough to remind Dean that he was hard as a fucking brick and Sam was right-fucking-there.

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

Dean glanced over and a hopeful grin quirked the corners of his mouth.

“You wanna do something for me?”

Sam got a wary look on his face, and Dean couldn't even see his eyes. But he knew that whatever reservations his little brother had, they usually went away fast enough when Dean got an idea.

“What do you want?”

“Well, there's this problem, see...”

Sam shifted and lowered the glasses on his face with a fingertip before he gave Dean a disbelieving look over the tops, amusement playing on his face.

“Really? You're going to be that guy?”

“What? I didn't even say anything bad yet!”

“See! It was going to be smarmy!”

“But you love it when I'm smarmy. Whatever that means.”

“Dean...”

“Aw, c'mon Sammy!”

Dean glanced over and Sam was shaking his head with exasperated amusement, his glasses back in place before his brother drew one ridiculously long leg up under himself and leaned over, kissing Dean. He didn't block too much of Deans view, they had done this before, but Dean kept his hands carefully steady on the wheel while his mouth fought his battle for him. Then Sam was gone, crouched over in a way that had to be uncomfortable for the taller man, but he was opening Dean's pants with skilled hands, slipping him out and holding him steady before his mouth was on him, hair falling forward to block the view.

Dean reached down with one hand, scraping the long strands back and holding them in his fist. He liked to watch, the sight of Sam's mouth wrapped around him was hot as hell, and Sam didn't mind some hair pulling. It was the least of the things Dean had ever done to him, after all. So he drove with one determinedly steady hand on the wheel while Sam sucked him off, traffic going past them on the other side of the highway. A few people honked their horns, probably mistaking Sammy for a girl with the long hair, but aside from a few knowing grins, Dean didn't get any real reaction from them.

He alternated watching Sam working him with his mouth, both hands balancing him, one on the seat by Dean's hip and the other on the floor, his whole body into the motion of the thing, and the road so they didn't crash. But it wasn't enough. It just wasn't. Too many days, even if he got off now, he'd still be hot for it in a few minutes. So he pulled Sam up with the grip on his hair, dragging the panting man to himself and kissing him, chasing the taste of himself on Sam's tongue with his own. Neither of them ever cared about kissing after a blow job, it wasn't like they found their own taste disgusting. Sometimes they did it to the end and then shared the whole sticky mess between the two.

Of course, that usually meant they were a mess again after and ended up with more things happening, but it was hot. So he kissed him until neither of them could breathe and then he let him go, using that hand to let go of his hair and start on the buttons of Sam's shirt with nimble fingers. Sam blinked and then laughed, the sound filling the car and sliding out the open windows as he knocked Dean's hand aside and stripped the fabric off over his head and pitched it into the back seat. The tall man was surprisingly flexible, and he skinned off his jeans and shoes quickly, boxers going over the back of the seats as well.

“Which way?”

“The road.”

Dean grinned at his brother and wrapped his arm around Sam's waist as he shifted and squirmed until he was sitting in Dean's lap, facing the road, legs folded and wedged so he was kneeling on either side of Dean's thighs, his own hands taking Dean's place on the wheel while Dean kept his foot on the gas.

He pressed a line of kisses along his brother's spine as he eased him back, not bothering to stretch him out. They didn't do that often, forget to stretch, but Sam could take it, he always did. He pulled him down, Sam making a lot of noise, until he was buried to the hilt and Sam was gasping, his ribs expanding against the skin of his torso. Dean groaned and his foot edged the accelerator down, Sam driving. He shifted his hips a little, and Sam moaned, lifting and falling slightly with his body. Neither had full range of motion like this, but they could move.

Dean threw his head back against the Impala's seat, hips arching off the leather and into his brother as Sam shifted and rocked against him, both of them forgetting about the traffic on the other side of the road. If anyone was watching now, they didn't even know or care, everything was focused on the movement and feel of what they were doing. Dean clutched Sam's hips tight, fingers digging into bone and flesh as he rocked shortly up against him, Sam moaning and struggling to keep the wheel steady when all he wanted to do was let go, arch back against Dean.

Finally Dean swallowed hard and rasped at him, one hand sliding all the way around to rub his thumb across the tip of Sammy's cock, making him yelp.

“Pull over. Fuck, Sam, pull the hell over, I have to- We have to-”

“Yeah. Yeah. Oh, shit, Dean.”

Dean moaned and sank his teeth into the back of Sam's shoulder as his brother's body twitched and shifted around his cock, Sam turning the wheel, jerking them onto the shoulder with a spray of gravel and dirt until they were parked, and he shoved the gear-shift into place desperately. Then the door popped open, the shriek of metal lost in the two of them grunting and gasping and moaning as they tumbled out the door, barely making it to their feet before kissing the asphalt. The door hung open, the engine still going and the ding of the sensor lost in their desperation to get their hands back on each other.

Dean slammed Sam against the side of the car, grinding against him as Sam clutched him, their mouths sliding together in a wet, messy mash of lips and tongue and teeth before Dean shoved his jeans down, kicking them under the car for now. He scraped his nails over Sam's skin, feeling the slide of it over muscle as Sam dug strong fingers into his spine, probably leaving marks. They never could resist hurting each other like that, but it never really came to be pain. Finally he pulled away and shoved Sam forward, making him lean over the open window, hands on the seat on the other side of the door. He shifted him down into place, neither of them thinking about the exposure.

He nudged his way back inside and then sank in quickly, Sam's moans echoing out of the car as he shifted his feet further apart, lowering his hips for his brother. Dean groaned and fell into his rhythm, surging inside his brother with hungry need, hands gripping and holding, sometimes reaching around to stroke his brother until he cried out with over-stimulation before Dean moved his hand away again. They worked each other frantically until Sam broke, practically howling Dean's name as he jerked partly upright, almost smacking his head into the roof of the car as his body tensed, making a sticky mess over the black paint on the door.

Dean snarled and sank his teeth into the back of Sam's neck, his body thrusting into the spasming tightness a few more times before he was buried to the hilt and jerking against him, filling him and making him moan as Sam sagged into the car, arms braced on the seat. Dean fell over him, resting his face against the sticky shoulder in front of him as they both stayed where they were for a minute. Then Sam shifted under him and his muffled voice echoed out.

“Dean? The door hurts man.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. My bad.”

He mumbled back to him and carefully extricated himself, blinking at the hot sun over-head before he shuffled around, leaning down and fishing his jeans out from behind the tire. They were dirty, but he'd worn worse. He'd clean the seats in his baby later. Sam was backing out with his own clothes in hand. Then the sound of a horn blasted them both, making them jump and look for a weapon and a threat. They saw a line of stopped traffic on the other side of the road and swallowed hard.

“Dean?”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't.”

A woman with brilliant red hair leaned out her window, arms crossed and a wide grin on her face as she tipped a pair of purple-framed sunglasses down, the light glinting off a cluster of rhinestones on each side. She shouted from across the road, laughter in her voice.

“That was a great show boys, but the cops have probably been called, you might want to move on!”

“Good idea!”

Dean shouted back and lifted a hand. The woman just pushed her glasses up, laughing and then peeled away, her purple car growling away as the line behind her began moving again, some people studiously ignoring the two dressing men while others stared with varying expressions from disgust, to shock, and some with amusement and lust. Dean ignored them all, pulling off his outer shirt to wipe off the side of the car as best he could while Sam rushed back around the other side to slump in the seat, hiding from the traffic.

Dean got in and peeled out too, going the opposite way from the laughing red-head.

“Hey Sammy?”

“What now, Dean?”

Dean grinned and glanced over.

“I have this problem...

Sam rolled his eyes and punched his brother in the arm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you liked this! It was another one requested by my friend, who gives me ideas to write for the boys. She wanted car sex, so I gave her car sex. ^-^; If you liked it please please PLEASE leave me a comment, I love them, they make me happy to write more stuff!


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